


Desi Clubs, Plant Catastrophes and Other Such Holiday Hindrances

by crapfaerie



Category: Harry Potter - J. K. Rowling
Genre: Background Relationships, Christmas, Christmas Party, Draco Malfoy is Adorable, Everyone Is Gay, Forced Proximity, Harry Potter Epilogue What Epilogue | EWE, Harry Potter is Bad at Feelings, Hogwarts Eighth Year, Holiday cookies, Indian Harry Potter, M/M, Mistletoe, Pining Idiots that are OBLIVIOUS AS FUCK, Plant Magic, Seriously He is too Precious For This World, Sharing a Bed, Sledding, Snowball Fight, Ugly Holiday Sweaters
Language: English
Status: Completed
Published: 2021-02-26
Updated: 2021-02-26
Packaged: 2021-03-17 16:14:12
Rating: Teen And Up Audiences
Warnings: No Archive Warnings Apply
Chapters: 5
Words: 11,617
Publisher: archiveofourown.org
Story URL: https://archiveofourown.org/works/29353284
Author URL: https://archiveofourown.org/users/crapfaerie/pseuds/crapfaerie
Summary: Harry Potter would like to have at least one (1) normal Christmas, thank you very much.
Relationships: Draco Malfoy/Harry Potter
Comments: 4
Kudos: 76
Collections: H/D Mistletoe Exchange 2020





	1. Chapter 1

**Author's Note:**

  * For [welpslytherin](https://archiveofourown.org/users/welpslytherin/gifts).



> Alex, I hope you have just as much fun reading this fic as I did writing it. Your prompts were amazing and I loved writing for you!
> 
> Many thanks to my beta, M and to Y, M, and C for being so supportive and helpful! Hugs to the mods for bearing with me :)

The snow-capped towers of Hogwarts were fast asleep. All except the tallest, of which a single window shone bright with orangey light. 

The fire cast dim shadows across the eighth year common room. From one corner of the room, flashes of light could be seen bouncing off the walls.  
The end credits of yet another muggle movie plays while an audience of three huddle together, too busy chattering to care who played the part of Whatever-His-Name.  
A sound, very much like crunching, could be heard from time to time.

"Just this once," said Harry, mouth full of crackers. "Just. This. Once. I'd like to have a normal Christmas. I mean, is that too much to ask for?"

Ron laughed, reaching for the bowl of popcorn. "It is if it's you we're talking about, mate. Boy Who Lived and all that shite tend to get in the way of things like 'normality' if you know what I mean."

"Kudos for your use of 'normality' Ron. Maybe there's a bit of brain under all that ginger after all." Harry dodged a rather well-thrown barrage of popcorn.

It wasn't unheard of for their movie nights to get a bit messy. In fact, most of the time _Harry_ counted as a morning-after mess they had to clean up. Weekly Movie Night was one of the things they started doing together during eighth year. It was a fun way to spend Tuesday nights, Harry supposed. Sometimes Ginny and Luna joined them. Neville only did when they watched James Bond. He said he could pass for a Bond. Harry wasn't so sure.

Hermione opened her mouth, (most probably to complain about the mess) but before she could say anything, there was a scratching on the window. It was an owl. Or perhaps a fuzzy mop of sorts. Hard to tell.

"I'll get it," announced Ron, taking a handful of peanuts. "You think owls like nuts?" He goes to open the window.

Harry turns to Hermione, eyes sparkling. He'd spent a fat load of Divination lessons daydreaming about the perfect Christmas.

"I've a wish-list, see," said Harry, pulling it out. "Snow, icing biscuits together, an ugly jumper competition-"

"Half a minute, Harry," said Ron, going over to sit next to Hermione on the Ugly Green Loveseat. He throws a large, rectangular package at Harry. Must be another something from a fan, Harry tosses the box to a side for now. "We always wear my mum's jumpers on Christmas. It's tradition!"

"We don't have to wear ugly ones the whole time!"

"Right then, I reckon it can't be too hard to get Malfoy's face sewn on a sweater."

Harry grinned. "I bet you'd love to have Malfoy's face on your chest. Close to your heart, innit?"

"A bit jealous are we, _Potter?_ " Ron replied. "Don't worry, I'll let you kiss his arse a couple times after I win." It was a bit scary how like Malfoy he sounded then.

Hermione snorted into her hot cocoa. "I hope you haven't forgotten our ski trip, Harry. We'll be in Bulgaria for the hols this time."

"Not at all. In fact, it ticks the snow off my wish-list." said Harry. He really had put a lot of thought into the whole 'Perfect Christmas' thing.

"Sounds fun."

"That's all you're going to say?" Harry mock-whines. "Just 'sounds fun'? You hurt my heart Hermione."

"What heart?" Ron says.

That was probably how they ended up having a massive pillow fight (Harry and Ron) and then passed out on the floor (also Harry and Ron). Let’s just say Ernie was not pleased.

"-as head of the boys dorm I simply must insist you take your… rebellious streak down a notch." Ernie told them off. Then, in a lower voice: "You're making me look bad in front of Lavender! I cannot afford to lose to her-"

"Rebellious streak my flat arse." Ron had rolled his eyes.

Harry leaned over to whisper to Lavender and Hermione- "He's becoming self-aware." To which both girls started cackling loudly.

Ron leaps up and starts throwing stunning spells at Harry, shouting something about how he should be on Ron's side. Ernie watches the two best friends, mouth a thin, disapproving line.

"You can come down for breakfast when you become responsible members of society."

"But Ernie!" Ron yells. "You can't possibly keep us here forever."

“Watch me.”

Ernie could not, in fact, keep them there forever.

***

Third class of the day and Harry was trying very hard not to act like a disaster gay. Which was very hard considering he was a disaster gay. Also, Malfoy and his pointy arse decided to sit right. There. 

And he was supposed to focus on contraception potions for plants or whatever. Isn’t more baby plants the point of Herbology?

“Now remember students,” Professor Sprout was saying, “the Controlled Reproduction Draught may seem similar to a contraception potion-” Ha! Harry was totally going to pass Herbology this year. “But it is nothing like it.” Oh.

“Contraception potions prevent fertilization. They are used to make sure no offspring are produced _despite_ intercouse.” Why were they learning this again? This wasn’t a Sex Ed class last time Harry checked. He says as much to Dean, on his right.

For some reason, Parvathi and Lavender, also on Harry’s right, burst into a fit of giggles. What? Did something funny happen? Why was Malfoy looking at him weird?

“Mister Potter,” Huh? Was Professor Sprout talking to him? “Can you explain how the Controlled Reproduction Draught works?”

“Me?”

One of the professor’s eyebrows disappears under her mop of fuzzy hair. “Well, unless you got married and didn’t think to inform us, I think we can all agree there is only one Potter. At least, in this room.”

“Oh,” said Harry, leafing through his notes. He tried to ignore the heat in his cheeks, and the eyes of a certain blond (hint: it’s not Neville).  
“It’s used for… selective breeding! It’s used for selective breeding and it works by… err… it creates a barrier of sorts around the two intended plants and-” Ew. _Intended plants_ sounded all sorts of wrong. “Prevents the pollen or whatever, from going into any other plant than the one we want it to breed with?”

“Acceptable.” What? That was a brilliant explanation. How come Harry only got an ‘acceptable’ for it?

“Now,” Sprout waved a bottle filled with the draught in a gloved hand. “We absolutely cannot let it touch your skin. Otherwise-”

Harry couldn’t remember much about what happened after that. Just that there was a shout and then the sound of something shattering and something touching his forearm. He remembered thinking that _something_ was very wet, and by default, gross. 

And then he wakes up to an annoyingly familiar white ceiling and gauzy pillows. Harry recalls thinking ‘oh, god. Not again.’ before he tried to sit up in bed. Only to get pushed back down. By Lavender Brown. 

“Lav!” said Harry. “What the fuck?”

Harry knows he shouldn’t be surprised to see her here, smiling inhumanely wide. Ever since the Patil twins found out he was half-Indian (and subsequently formed _The Desi Club est.1998_ ) she’s been hanging out with him. And well, it’s not like she’s bad company. The opposite, actually.  
It’s just that Lavender had a very very bad habit of being very very nosy. Especially when it came to Harry’s love life. Or lack thereof.

“Well,” she twirled a bit of her hair - a sign she was nervous. Wait, Harry didn’t some sort of incurable dick disease, did he? She said something like that a few weeks ago, except it was a prank that time.

“Which do you want to hear first, the good news, or the bad news?”

Really? This was how Lav planned on breaking the big news? Harry rolled his eyes. “Fine, bad news first.”

“Seriously,” she huffed. “You’re so boring. Why do you always pick the bad news first?”

“Because you hate it.”

Lavender stuck her tongue out at him. “Rude but it’s you so-”

“Just get on with it already!”

“Okay, okay,” grinned Lav, who was really getting on Harry’s nerves. “So the bad news is that one of the Controlled Reproduction draughts exploded in Herbology (which may or may not have been my fault haha) and some of it went on you and now you can’t go five feet away from Malfoy because you guys are now stuck in a bubble thing you can't get out of and no one can get into.” she said all in one breath.

Harry’s brain short-circuited. So he _didn’t_ have an incurable dick disease? “Draught… forcefield… _Malfoy?_ ” he blurted.

“Figured that’s the part you’d fixate on,” snorted Ron, walking into the infirmary with Hermione. “And before you accuse us, Pomfrey only let one person enter before and _somebody_ pushed their way in.” He narrowed his eyes at Lavender.

She just smiled and waved at Hermione, who blushed. “Sorry, but you can’t fight this ass, Ronnie-kins.” Lav shakes her hips to prove her point.

“Latinas,” Ron groaned.

And that’s when Harry realized something very, very important. If he couldn’t be five feet away from Malfoy that meant he was… “Oh my god, Malfoy is sleeping next to me.”

Sure, he was on a different bed, but considering they _did_ have five feet, Pomfrey really didn't have to put Malfoy that close. Not that Harry was complaining or anything. It was really easy to admire him when he was this close, and you know, not yelling or sneering. He looked pretty, actually, when he wasn’t trying to glare Harry’s head off. Not that he did that a lot these days. Just a lot of blank-faced staring and-

“You mean you had no idea before?” 

“I’m going to kill you and then stuff you and your bleached hair in a cauldron.” Harry said, smiling widely.

Lav pouts. “Aww, but then who’s gonna kiss Parvathi good morning, and flirt with Hermione, and get on your nerves, and piss off Ernie-”

“We get it,” says Ron, finally. “You’re irreplaceable.” He made jazz hand motions as he said it.

“You got that right, ‘lil Red.” and judging by the look on Ron’s face, he did not like the new nickname.

There was a soft groan from Harry’s right, which could only be-

Malfoy pulled Harry’s pillow from under his head and put it over his ears. “Must you Gryffindors be so loud?” His eyes fluttered shut.

“Sorry, Draco,” said Hermione before Lavender could open her mouth and once again, wreak havoc. “We were just about to leave, right Ron, Lavender?” She uses her Stern Voice, which makes the other two nod fervently. No one could fight Hermione’s Stern Voice. Not even Lavender.

“Bye, Harry!”

“I still hate you!” Shouted Harry.

“At least we don’t have to worry about finding you a roommate for the ski trip? That’s the good news.”

Good news? “LAVENDER!”


	2. Chapter 2

“So, Potter,” said Malfoy, nearly two hours after the triad left. Madam Pomfrey was keeping them because... actually, Harry didn't know why she was still making them stay. “How long do you think we’ll be stuck like this? Because I don’t think this would be very ideal for that perfect Christmas scheme of yours.”

Harry narrowed his eyes. “How do you know about my perfect Christmas- it is not a scheme!” How dare he? It was a plan! A very well thought out, flawless plan if he did say so himself -which he did. Only, he didn't plan for a scenario where he and Malfoy would get attached at the hip. I mean, what were the odds of _that_ happening?

“You were announcing it to the masses at the Great Hall this morning.”

“But you were at the other end of the hall,” said Harry, finding an opportunity. “So you must’ve had to be listening to have heard that.”

Malfoy turned a very satisfying shade of pink. “You're very loud, okay.”

“And your hearing must be brilliant.” Yes, Harry was enjoying this. Thank you for asking.

“Shut up, Potter.”

***

Madame Pomfrey said they could leave that evening with the very comforting assurance that the potion would wear off after around 6 days. Which would make it the day after Christmas. AFTER.

Was there not some magic spell that could, I don’t know, speed the potion up a day? Was that not doable in a world where immortality can be achieved by making a _stone_? Harry had to battle a nose-less man and his henchman who could turn into a rat at will. Heck, Harry was the son of a deer. Stag. Whatever. How hard could this be?

“Stop overreacting, Potter.” said Malfoy, who had not, in fact, given Harry his pillow back. It was under his feet now, with his own pillow under his head. Geez, Malfoy, why don’t you take the pillows off all the other beds and make yourself a fort?

“How are you so calm about this again?”

Malfoy propped his head up on an elbow and smiled at him sweetly. “It’s already been established that there is absolutely no way to reverse this, and we will have to wait it out. So I thought, why spend Christmas looking like the Dark Lord-”

“Voldemort.”

“Right, Voldemort. Happy now?” Malfoy shuddered. “As I was saying, (before I was rudely interrupted) I refuse to spend my Christmas with a long face just because I have to spend it with you.” He declared pompously.

“That’s… might actually be rather sensible, Malfoy.” He was lying. Harry would bet his wand and his broom and his favourite socks Malfoy was lying. There was no way Malfoy could say something like this of his own accord. No way.

“Why, thank you.”

“I said might be.”

“I’ll take it, thanks.” Okay, Malfoy, no need to be so crabby. “Here comes Pomfrey to say we can go.”

***

Padma nearly gave Harry a heart attack when he walked into his and Neville’s shared bedroom. She stepped out of the shadows behind Harry and cleared her throat so loud he nearly jumped into Malfoy’s arms. Malfoy, who had to come with him because of the whole five feet thing.

“Did you get the package, Harry?”

“Merlin, Padma! Are you trying to kill me?”

She raised an eyebrow, before breaking out into smiles. “Did you get it?”

“Get what?” Harry asked. “Oh wait, you mean that owl from last night? Was that you?”

“Technically it was auntie Mena. We got you a kurta for when we boycott Christmas.” She said casually, as if talking about the weather.

“Excuse me, what?” Said Malfoy, who hadn’t spoken a word after they left the infirmary. Harry imagined it was because he missed the gauzy pillows. “Boycott Christmas? Why would you want to do that?” He sounded genuinely concerned for Padma’s mental health. Which was funny because Padma looked a bit miffed by it.

“Listen here, sickly Victorian boy,” uh-oh. Harry knew that look. It meant Malfoy was going to get completely and utterly annihilated. “I don’t know what kind of fucked up privileges you might have gotten, but people like my sister and I have had to literally drag ourselves through the mud to study here. 

“And I don’t know what _you_ might think, but I believe it’s pretty dumb for a society that doesn’t have legitimate religious belief to go around celebrating Christian holidays and Christian holidays alone. If you’re going to celebrate, you should celebrate all holidays, of every ethnicity and religion.”

“Well…” Was Malfoy seriously going to try to argue back? If so, the git was even crazier than Harry thought! “Of course, your concerns are valid, Patil… But if your goal is to establish other holidays at Hogwarts, would boycotting Christmas set a good example? I mean, wouldn’t it just make other students think they could just ruin the spirit of holidays if they wish. You should show that you embrace these holidays and respect the same way you do your own. That way, you wouldn't be labeled a hypocrite.”

Padma swallowed. “You bring strong arguments, pasty boy.” Sure, insult the person actually dishing out sense for once. Lavender was having a bad influence on the twins.   
Then Padma turned to Harry. “Just pack the kurta.” And just like that, she was gone.

Harry sighed and went to pick up the package from his trunk. He tried to ignore Malfoy hovering behind him and tore the paper away. The green fabric was soft to the touch, with a faint shimmer to it. The edges were lined with golden thread and there were intricate spirals drawn across the whole thing.

“May I?” Harry almost forgot about Malfoy, until he asked to touch the kurta. “”I’d like to have a look.”

He handed it to him wordlessly, and then watched as Malfoy marvelled over the intricate patterns. It was nice, if not a bit jarring, to see Malfoy with such open expression on his face. Harry wondered why he thought the Slytherin looked much better smiling. People don’t think that sort of thing about their former arch-nemesis. Actually, Malfoy was more arch-pain-in-the-arse than nemesis. 

“You should pack it.” Malfoy tossed it back to him. 

Hey. That’s right. They came here to pack because the bus taking them to the ski park was coming after dinner. That didn't leave much time at all, did it? Maybe Harry could just stuff all his clothes in the bag…

“Seriously, Potter.” Drawled Malfoy. “Unless you plan on getting concussed, I suggest not bringing swim trunks. The lakes will be frozen over, you know.”

Harry shrugged. That made sense, but he slipped a pair in anyway because you never know when a heatwave might come in and all the ice melts so they have to swim to safety.

“You’re impossible, Potter.” Said Malfoy, shaking his head. “Do you even own a proper coat?” He starts filing through Harry’s things, throwing clothes and books everywhere. 

“As I suspected. You do not.”

He pulled Harry’s trunk close and sat down on the floor, flabbergasting Harry. Malfoy looks up at him. “Well?” He raised an eyebrow. “Make yourself useful and fold what I give you. We don’t have all day you know.”

Harry meekly folds the jumpers. Malfoy seems to think they’ll need an insane amount of socks and beanies. “Otherwise your toes and ears will fall off,” he’d said with a smile. 

It was weird to be sitting on the floor of his room, folding clothes with Malfoy. Weider still, was walking into the Great Hall with him. Having Malfoy sit with him at Gryffindor. Him eating his potatoes like it was the most natural thing to be doing right now. Well, it sort of was, considering it was dinner time but- why wasn't he panicking over the whole potion thing?

“Don’t think too much,” muttered Malfoy, sneaking some pudding off Harry’s plate. He let him, knowing the sweet-toothed thing Malfoy was. “You look like your brain might pop out onto the plate any moment.”

“I do _not_ ,” Harry whispered back. Did he?

Ron cleared his throat, a funny expression on his face. “Sorry mate, but you do.”

“Just a bit, though.” Ginny smirked from his right. She was probably making fun of him. Ginny liked doing that. So did Lavender. Why was it that people did that so much? Was he, Harry, so susceptible to making a fool of himself?

Malfoy nudged him, and Harry slid his plate over to him this time. The blond turned around to give Harry a blinding smile. It was nice.   
Well, Ron, Neville and the rest of the eighth years (and any younger students staying for Christmas) were looking at him weird. 

What? It wasn’t like Harry was going to eat the blueberry pie or whatever it was anyway. 

Soon it was time for them to board the train. Harry looked back at the castle. Really looked at it. Looked at the stone walls and those large, wooden doors. He tried, as he always did, to memorize every detail of the structure. Every crack, every bit of grime and every cobweb.

There was a trickle of warm breath on his throat. “The boat’s here,” Malfoy looked apologetic and a bit awkward. He seemed to want to say something else. “And uh…” He produced a parka, very red, with fur lined around the hood.

“I charmed it red. I didn’t think you’d like the pattern that was on it before.” Malfoy looked very pink and flushed in the dim Hogwarts lights. Huh, Harry thought. Was he always this easily flustered? 

“It's got warming charms weaved in and… you didn't have a coat or anything so I thought…” He trailed, looking away. “I couldn’t be seen with a parka-less peasant like you!” Malfoy snapped at the last minute, remembering himself at last.

“What was the pattern on it before?” Harry leans his face closer, enjoying the way Malfoy couldn’t look him in the eye. 

Malfoy glared at him. “It’s blue with tiny sheep, okay?” There was hurt in his eyes, like he expected Harry to make fun of him or something stupid of the sort. Even though the emotion was one Harry was used to being directed at, the softness, the _openness_ , it had taken him aback.

“Can you turn it back?”

“What?” 

“Can you... Turn it back?”

“As much as I would love to leave you guys to your moment- who am I kidding? Ha.- The train is going to leave soon, darlings.” Came Pansy’s sharp voice. The dark-haired girl had her arm snaked around Ginny’s hip, the latter’s tongue in her ear. She pulled out to wave at Harry and then went to nip Pansy’s neck. 

Malfoy made a disgusted sound and made to stomp towards the boats. Which meant Harry had to go too. “See you at the Burrow, Gin. And err... you too Pansy. See you on the train, maybe?” He waved at the couple before running after Malfoy.

“Must you stride so fast?” Harry said when he caught up. He didn't have much far to go but still felt like whinging a bit. Just to get under Malfoy’s nerves.

“I do not _stride_!”

“Yes you do,” Harry pointed out. “A bit like a peacock actually.”

Malfoy looked like he would very much like to strangle Harry. Which was a more welcome Malfoy than the blushy one that gave him parkas and made Harry feel things he’d rather not.

***

“Potter.”

“Harry?”

“Harry, wake up!”

Harry blinked. When had he fallen asleep? He remembered sitting on the train next to Malfoy. And realizing how tiny the seats were and over-analyzing his and Malfoy’s thighs being pressed so close. Then Malfoy started talking about _bison_ or something. No wonder Harry fell asleep.

“What is it?” Harry cast a quick Tempus. Six in the bloody morning. Of course.

It was way too early for Malfoy to look as chipper as he did. “Remember you said you’d never seen grebes before?” Yes. In fact, Harry remembered denying they existed. 

Malfoy jabbed his finger against the window. “There’s a flock of them waddling by right now!”

Fake geese. Mafloy woke him up to watch fake geese. It could have been because they’d reached the resort, or maybe even because the train was being hijacked by an evil megalomaniac and they needed to save the world. But no. It had to be fake geese.

“They are _not_ fake geese, Potter.” Malfoy snapped, for once looking his familiar pointy self. “I’ll have you know there is a fundamental difference between geese and grebes and-”

“-yes, and I’m sure it’s fascinating, really.” Harry patted his… seatmate? Friend? Did this new proximity make them mates now? They weren't really fighting, and Harry was far too tired to think up the schematics. Let’s call Malfoy a Significant Annoyance and leave the ponder about details for later. 

“But I’d like to get some sleep before we reach the lodge.”

Malfoy huffed. He then grabs Harry’s arm and... puts it around his neck? “Fine.” He said.

Harry let himself gape at the blond for a bit. “Wha- what are-are you doing… with my arm?”

Malfoy looked at Harry like he’d heard the world’s most dumbest sentence. It was a very natural concern to have, goddamn it!

“Going to sleep.” He said, simply. The sentence felt incomplete without a ‘duh’ at the end, but Harry knew better than to expect Malfoy of all people to say ‘duh’. “Wouldn’t want me to have a cramped neck now would we?” Ah. There it was. The Malfoy bit.

“Ah,” Harry managed. “Well err- good night, I guess?”

Malfoy nodded. And then he did the most remarkable thing. He- he actually rested his head on Harry’s chest, and fell right asleep. 

Harry, who was the one trying to sleep in the first place, had a much harder time falling asleep after that little episode. But he tried very hard, seeing as they had a whole bus ride waiting for them near the Cairngorms. Whose idea was it to go somewhere that far anyway?

***

It was nearly dusk when the bus finally came to a stop.   
The pebbly road that led to the lodge was badly lit. And very, very cold. Harry felt glad for the parka. Malfoy-gifted or otherwise.

The small group of eighth-years were welcomed warmly by a middle-aged muggle woman and her daughter. “Welcome, welcome!” She had given them each a smile and ushered them into a large parlor to warm up.

Hermione and Ron came to sit with him, and Malfoy had turned to speak to Blaise. There was no one around to save Harry from his friends. 

“So,” Ron grinned ear-to-ear. “You’re going to have to spend Christmas with Malfoy as your personal cocksleeve. Puts one heck of a dent on your Christmas plans eh, old chap?”

Hermione shoved him. “You didn’t have to make it sound so vulgar!” But then she turned to Harry expectantly. Oh great. She wanted to know too.

“It doesn’t change anything.” Harry jutted his chin forward in defiance.

Lavender passed by and whacked Harry on the head. “You still plan on doing those heteronormative Christmas stuff, Harry darling?”

Before Harry could reply, Mrs Dabney (the owner) announced a light supper and then time for bed. He wasn’t able to talk to either of his best friends, but he did run into Lavender and Parvathi, the former of whom told him she was happy he’d finally found himself a bed warmer (much to both Harry and Malfoy’s chagrin) Parvathi just wanted to know if Harry's packed his kurta. 

“But I thought you weren’t boycotting Christmas anymore?”

“No, but we still need those clothes.” It was probably better not to question Parv. She could be very snappy when she wanted to.

Bathroom time was probably the most awkward. Both of them were badly in need of a shower, and the bathroom was far too small. They tried staying outside, but as soon as Malfoy closed the bathroom door, the horrible feeling of emptiness, a kind of pain that wanted him to throw up, washed over him. Malfoy opened the door, looking green, and they sat together, against the wall for a while, to feel better.

Harry had to stare at the wall until Malfoy finished his business. 

The bed… left much to be desired. 

For one thing, there was only one. And it was not big enough for them to build a pillow wall between them, and then not fall off the edge. In the end, they had to lie down side by side.. They agreed it was probably better to face one another than be kicked in the face.

“G’night, Malfoy.” Harry muttered, putting a pillow on his head. It was so cold, even under such thick blankets.

“Are you cold?”

Harry felt his ears go red. “Uhm… yeah. I guess I am, just a bit.” 

The warming charm was like a wave. Washing over from his head down to his toes, which curled in pleasure.

“Thanks… I err- I needed that.”

“Goodnight, Potter.” 

_Goodnight, Malfoy._ Harry thought, but didn’t say. He daren’t wake the blond, whose breathing had evened the moment his eyes fluttered shut. He’d fallen asleep as quick as the seasons changed from autumn to winter.


	3. Chapter 3

Malfoy was not a fun person in the morning. Well, _after_ he wakes up.

The moments between Harry’s waking and Malfoy’s were… interesting enough;

\- Harry, waking up to a weight on his chest.  
\- Him fumbling for his glasses, and then finding them under his pillow.  
\- The sight of Malfoy snoring on his chest, Harry’s jumper curled in his fists.

Maybe it was the way his eyelashes brushed his cheeks. Maybe it was the bleak winter sun against his pale hair. Perhaps it was his breath, warm on Harry’s arm. No. It had to be the faintest dusting of freckles on the other boy’s nose, that Harry made a mental note to tease Malfoy about later.  
Or it just might’ve been the fact that Harry expected there to be more talking and teasing between them. Even after the whole potion fiasco.

Harry reached his free hand to… to do what? Touch his cheek? Push his hair back? Honestly, what was he thinking?

But before he could carry out any not-thought-out Foolish Action, Malfoy’s eyes fluttered open and they were suddenly as far from each other as they could get without the nausea.

Harry felt the need to fill the silence with something. _Anything._ “Sleep well?”

“Uhm, yeah! Yeah, I did, actually. Thank you for asking.” Harry didn’t think he’d ever heard Malfoy sound as flustered as he did at that moment. And he _did_ do a lot of flustering the past couple days.

“Breakfast?”

“Yes! Yes, I am rather hungry, yes.”

“Bathroom first though, right?”

“Of course. Yes, you can go first while I err…”

“Yeah, you do that.”

***

“And that’s how you did, basically.” Luanne, the owner’s daughter smiled at them. “You understood, right?”

“Yeah, okay.” Harry pretended to understand what she’d said, but he was pretty sure he sounded as lost as Malfoy looked.

All the others were already on the hills, just tiny figures skating or skiing or sledding. If they figured it out so easily, why on earth was Harry struggling? Malfoy too. He was supposed to be the smart one in this relationship. Oh Merlin, maybe Harry’s obliviousness was rubbing off on him.

“Are you really going to make me do that?” Malfoy made a face at the plastic board. 

Harry decided at that moment that whatever happened, he would get on the sled and he would make Malfoy ride it with him. Not that the other male had any choice in the matter. What with the potion and shit.

Malfoy looked at Harry like he’d sprouted two heads. “What are you doing?”

“Trying something new,” Harry shrugged. Death by avalanche didn’t seem that bad, actually. Not when Malfoy was going to die with him.

“Trying new things is Gryffindor culture. I refuse to-”

Luanne harrumphed. “Just sit down,” Harry enjoyed the way she practically forced him to sit on the little sled. Thankfully she had the good sense to put Malfoy in front. That way Harry could get minimal brain damage. I mean, why damage an already faulty product? Malfoy could do with a little shaking in the thinker.

“Ready?” Wait, what? 

Harry turned around to late to ask “what are you-”

The sled began moving, slowly at first, but then Luanne gave it a harder push and they were sliding down the mountain faster than the latest model of the Nimbus broom. 

“If you die, I had no involvement and it was all your idea!” Luanne called after them.

Harry considered closing his eyes and screaming his head off until they reached inevitable death. But then he realized that Malfoy was _not_ screaming his head off.

If fact, Malfoy seemed to be… steering them? Since when was Malfoy an expert of sled riding? Was that something that happened to people? You get shoved down a mountain and suddenly you become adept at winter sports. 

“Since when are you a professional sledder?” Harry shouted, ducking his face behind Malfoy to avoid windburn or whatever it was. “You said you’ve never sled before.” 

“I haven’t.”

Harry couldn’t help but shout, “Then what the bloody hell are you doing?”

“Trying to get us off of this muggle torture contraption alive, if you would.” Malfoy replied. He seemed to be gritting his teeth. And his knuckles were white from how tight he was holding on. Huh. At least Harry wasn’t the only one scared shitless. “Working it like I would a broom seems to help.” 

“And your keeping calm would too, Potter.”

“I am calm-” Harry was saying, before he spotted the humongous boulder in their way. “Watch out!” He instinctively circled his hands around Malfoy’s waist in an ‘if I die, he dies too’ moment.

Malfoy yelps and leans back. All of a sudden, they were tumbling off the hill - also faster than the latest Nimbus model. The sled had long disappeared and all Harry could see was snow. Snow spinning around him as he and Malfoy rolled down, smushed together inside a gigantic snowball.

At last, they hit a tree or something (another boulder?) and the snow broke away, freeing them from the ice cold vortex of death. 

Harry finally opened his eyes.

A pair of mismatched eyes stared at him from above. One was a light grey and the other a blue so pale, it was hard to tell they were two colours. But they were. And under those eyes was a pointy nose dusted with the softest of freckles - inconspicuous, just like the difference between the two eyes.  
And when Harry looked lower, he saw those lips - pink and a little bruised from their earlier tumble. The lips moved, but Harry was so enamoured he couldn’t hear a word. Not a bloody word. 

“Potter!” Harry jumped at the hiss.

Malfoy looked at him with knitted brows before saying, “did you hit your head?” 

And that’s when Harry noticed something. Malfoy was straddling him. Oh Merlin, Malfoy was straddling him and Harry was enjoying it and he kind of wanted to kiss the frown off his face and all these realizations were hitting him on the head like a bell going gong, gong. It hurt his head. Or maybe Harry really had hit his head.

“If you die, the potion is going to kill me too,” Malfoy mumbled, still hovering over him. “Do you want us both to die out here, Potter?”

“Harry.”

Malfoy’s jaw dropped. “Wha- what?” He tried to act composed, which Harry decided was cute. Very cute actually.

“Harry.” He said it again, louder this time. “I think you should call me Harry.”

Malfoy didn't speak, so Harry pressed on.

“I mean, don’t you think it’s a bit excessive, calling each other by our last names? Especially after this particularly life-threatening event.”

He raised an eyebrow, Malfoy did, and slowly got off Harry. “Alright? _Harry,_ I think we should get back to the lodge and have your head looked over at.”

Harry smiled goofily. Yeah, he definitely needed to get his head checked. “Since you’re calling me Harry now, can I call you Draco?”

“If you must,” Draco sighed, his cheeks getting pinker as he held a hand to help Harry up. It must be getting really cold.

Harry took the hand, trying not to think about how nice it felt to hold Draco’s hand. Because that would be stupid. Because Draco probably isn’t too happy about having to hold his arch-inconvenience’s hand.

He let go and pretended to brush the snow off his ( _Draco’s_ ) blue-with-tiny-sheep parka. 

“Draco,” Harry said, trying to get rid of the funny punching feel in his gut. “It’s so much fun to say. Draco, Draco, Draco.”

To his surprise, Draco laughed, shaking his head and moving to bonk his head with Harry’s. 

“You are such a doof.”

“And you’re a git. What’s new?” Harry grinned. This, he could handle. “It's getting dark. We should head back inside.”

And that’s when Draco decided to throw the first snowball. Oh, it was on.

***

Millicent clicked her tongue. “He’s fine.” She declared.

“He’s fine?” Draco said, sounding shocked. 

“I’m _fine_!”

They both turned to Harry. “Shut up.” Draco and Millicent 'call me Millie, hon' Bulstrode said in unison. Apparently they did that a lot. And it made Draco look a bit pointy too.

“If _Millie_ says I’m fine, and _I_ feel fine, can’t we go?” Harry didn’t like the way Millicent kept looking between him and Draco. The look on her face was unnerving. Like she knew something he didn’t.

Draco rolled his eyes but still followed Harry out of the makeshift infirmary Millicent had set up on her side of the room. She was very committed to becoming a Healer, it seemed. Enough to set up a mini-hospital while on a ski trip.

“In her defence,” Draco smiled sheepishly. “Ski trips do tend to have casualties.”

At that moment, Blaise Zabini crashed into them. 

The way Draco turned all prickly and pointy in a matter of seconds was a bit frightening to watch, Harry had to admit. He’d thought Draco's just softened after the war or something. He’d softened, yes. But only when talking to Harry?

Draco glared at his dark, handsome friend. “What the fuck, Blaise. Did you fall into a lake?”

“Ha ha. Very funny.” Zabini threw a charming smile at Harry. He was indeed soaking. And wearing a towel around his waist. Harry didn’t think he’d last much long. “The lakes are all frozen over, Draco. Surely you know that.”

He winked. This time at Draco. It made Harry feel… odd. And no, he wasn’t about to have a Long Think about that right then. That could wait for later. 

“Ernie and I just had a lovely soak in the hot tub.” Blaise Zabini said conversationally. “It’s just there on the deck, under the stars. It’s warm, Draco, and so, so _romantic._ ” He purred. He had the same look Millicent did. 

“ _Er-Ernie_?” Draco sputtered, looking very red. “You- Ernie- But...”

Zabini flashed another smile. At both of them this time. “You guys should try it out.”

“Never.” Draco spat, looking flushed and red bothered. 

And then Zabini was gone. Just as sudden as his appearance.

“Wanna go out on the deck?” Harry said, trying to figure out what just happened.

Draco stormed out, muttering curses under his breath.

***

Sure enough, there was the hot tub, right under the stars, as Zabini had promised. 

It bubbled, steam curling in the frosty air. The tub was empty and it looked so, so inviting. The warm air seemed to swirl around Harry - beckoning him. It was tantalizing.

“Do you- would you mind terribly if I took… if I tried out the hot tub?” Harry practically begged Draco, who was frowning at the night sky. Really, what had the stars done to offend him? Not that Harry was complaining. Draco leaning on the railings was also Draco giving Harry an eyeful of arse. 

He shrugged and walked to the hot tub, Harry following, stunned. Draco Malfoy, not putting up a fight? This week just kept getting weirder and weirder.

Well, at least Harry got to go in the hot tub. 

Harry slipped his orange Chudley Cannons sweater (courtesy of Ron) over his shoulders and shrugged his trousers off. He folded them neatly before stepping into the warm waters. Wearing those swim trunks over his pants that morning was the best decision he’d probably made in like, ever.

His muscles relaxed immediately and Harry let out a contented moan.  
He wondered what Draco was doing and turned to look, only to find that Draco, red faced as usual, had taken his own sweater and slacks and was sitting at the edge of the pool. 

Draco, unlike Harry, hadn’t taken his shirt off. It was a rather large shirt that made Draco look a bit boxy. The shirt ended just short of his knees, and Harry found himself gasping as he took in the way the fabric looked against Draco’s pale skin. So pale, the flesh and fabric could’ve been one. 

Mouth dry, Harry forced himself to look Draco in the eye. “What are you doing?” Hadn’t Draco told Zabini he wouldn’t get in the hot tub?

“Trying something new.” He shrugged, just as Harry had that afternoon.

Draco joined him in the tub, sighing softly as the water rippled around them. He ducked his head under. He lifted his head, water from his hair dripping on the otherwise calm surface. Draco shook his head, making the water go everywhere.

They laughed, but Harry noticed his smile didn’t quite reach his eyes. 

Then Harry did something he decided he would blame on his head being slammed against the tree earlier. He beckoned Draco close, and when he was close enough, Harry pulled him between his legs. Then, he pressed his face into the crook of Draco’s neck.

He smelled like apples. Apples and snow. Harry was aware how crazy he was acting at that moment. But the important (and perhaps shocking) bit was that Draco had made no attempt to move away. No attempt to push Harry away. 

Something in Harry dared to hope. He had no doubt that something was the supremely Gryffindor part of him that never thought before rushing in. And yet, had that part of him ever been wrong?

Draco finally spoke. After what felt like eternity and a half, he’d said, “What are you doing, Harry?” It was barely above a whisper, and the words turned to clouds of vapour in the winter air. They disappeared into the night sky, as ethereal as the person who’d spoken them. 

“You looked like you needed a cuddle.” Harry said, matter-of-factly.

“Is that- is that something we do now?”

“Only if you want it to be.”

“I’d like that.”

Draco leaned his head back and Harry once again got to admire his glittering blue and grey eyes. They were like two pools in the middle of a cornfield maze, the sky reflected in their glassy waters. His face was a labyrinth Harry wouldn’t have minded getting lost in. Eyes oceans he wouldn’t have minded drowning in. 

“So,” Draco said, leaning back against Harry - a bit like they did that morning, except they weren’t sledding down the hill of death this time. “What exactly do you and the Patil twins do in your little… Indian club?”

Harry laughed. “Not much actually. We meet up every Saturday to watch Bollywood movies and... sometimes Padma goes off into her rants. I think you know how well that goes.”

“Merlin forbid I ever have to go through _that_ again.”

Harry laughed, and as he did, he felt the Gryffindor side of him winning. Merlin forbid this be the first time it's wrong.


	4. Chapter 4

They hadn’t tried to fight the inevitable last night. 

Having Draco pressed against his side was a bit painful for his pining heart, but the warmth lulled him to sleep soon enough. And you don’t remember pain in sleep. At least, Harry didn’t.

Both of them had terrible colds when they woke up, though.

Millicent told them that it served them right for "going skinny dipping right after diving headfirst into snow" and that it was mild enough that she wasn’t even going to help them. “Deal with the effects of your mistakes yourself, sweeties.”

Harry let Draco have all his scones, artfully avoiding both Lavender and Hermione’s questioning looks. That was a conversation he’d rather not have when Draco was attached to his hip.

“Hey, Harry.” Ron had grinned at him. “I managed to convince Mrs. Dabney to let us bake in her kitchen.”

“He promised to go on a date with Luanne.” Hermione said, stirring her coffee.

Draco nudged him, scone in hand. “Was that one of your Christmas activities? Baking?”

“Yeah.” Harry smiled at him. It was getting hard _not to_ smile when Draco talked to him. “Ron, ‘Mione and I were going to have a biscuit icing battle. You can join us if you’d like.”

“I’d like that.” Draco turned back to his scone.

Lavender piped up. “May Parv and I partake in your Christmas activity as well?” She asks solemnly, though it was easy to tell she was suppressing a giggle. 

“I don’t know,” Harry mused. “Can you?”

***

And that was how half the group ended up crammed in Mrs. Dabney’s kitchen.

They stood around the long kitchen island, a bit like during Herbology, actually. Recipe books lay open to different dishes on different parts of the table. Gingerbread, madeleines, shortbread and even stained glass window biscuits (though Harry couldn’t imagine putting icing on some of those).

The smell of fresh biscuits was so much more magical when you made those biscuits with people who you love. 

Harry saw Seamus and Dean sneaking out to hang some of the biscuits on the tree (the ones where the glass bit looked like penises) and Hannah running after them with more normal-looking ones.  
Blaise and _Neville_ of all people, were building a gingerbread mansion, while Padma, Ron and Theo were squirting icing on some of the biscuits. Harry imagined they were in around the same state as the stained dick ones. 

Harry had made little snowflakes and tiny trees on his. They looked colourful, if not completely unintelligible. 

Draco was at his left, and had blatantly refused to show Harry what he was making.

Hermione seemed to be having trouble with hers, so Harry busied himself with helping her instead of wondering what on earth Draco could be up to. Well, to be fair, he did think about it, even when talking to ‘Mione.

“You don’t have to hide it, Harry,” Hermione whispered, brows furrowed as she tried to ice one of the shortbread biscuits. “It’s obvious you like him.”

Harry didn’t feign surprise. In fact, he wondered why it took Hermione as long as she did to figure it out. “What do you think I should do about it.”

She shrugged. “Just be yourself. He seems to like that.”

“That,” Harry tries to ignore the warmth in his cheeks, “that was hogwash advice ‘Mione. Absolute bollocks.” 

“Well, you seem to rather enjoy bollocks these days,” Hermione said wryly.

Harry choked. Hermione should be banned from making jokes. Especially ones related to testicles. It just wasn’t good for Harry’s poor heart. Not good at all.

“Never, ever make an innuendo again. Please. My poor heart can’t take such abuse, ‘Mione.”

“Anyway,” Hermione said loudly. “Ron and I are going down to that little village down the mountain, for his date.” She smirked at Ron, who made a face at her. “Want to join us?”

“I’ve got to get some shopping done.” Harry agreed. He needed to get something for Draco. It would be rude not to give your Significant Annoyance anything for Christmas. Especially after you somehow manage to develop feelings for them. 

“Great.” Hermione beamed. “I’ll see you then!”

***

Winter’s Watch, true to its name, was very wintery. Very wintery and definitely the sort of place couples would go on dates. Harry had to admit Luanne had very good taste in romantic spots. Just not the people to go there with. Krum was going to have a good laugh at Ron’s expense at the family dinner - that Harry would make sure of.

Presently, they walked down one of the snow covered streets. Warmly lit shops illuminated the otherwise monochrome district. There were wreaths on every door, and ornaments of every colour. Christmas lights hung from door to door.

Harry huddled deeper into his (Draco’s) baby-blue-with-tiny-sheep jacket. He glanced up from inside it, making sure to protect his nose from the unforgiving cold. 

Luanne and Ron were up at front, her dark head resting on a red-faced Ron’s shoulder. Merlin, Krum was going to have a field day.

Hermione and Millicent (??) had slipped into one of the tiny shops, leaving Harry and Draco in the rear.

Harry peered into every window, looking for something, anything, that he could buy and present to Draco. As a token of their new-found friendship, he could say. Or perhaps…

“Look,” Draco pointed at one of the stores. An antiques store. “Would you mind terribly if we made a quick stop there?” He made his eyes impossibly wide. It was irresistible.

“Not at all!” Harry said. In fact, he just might find something special there, right? In a lot of the books he’d read, antique shops held a lot of significance and-

The sound of a jingling bell pulled Harry out of his thoughts. He followed Draco into the tiny space. Instantly, Harry felt a whole lot warmer. 

The owner, an elderly woman, made no move to greet or show them around. She had her face buried in an erotica novel Harry was embarrassed to admit he recognized. 

Draco made a beeline towards a shelf full of dusty tomes, the predictable bastard. 

Harry followed him, eyeing the potpourri of items with such a keen eye, Hermione would’ve had an aneurysm. Then, something caught his eye.

It was a dusty old thing, covered in cobwebs he was far too familiar with. That was probably what drew him in. The thing was a snowglobe that, after a vigorous wipe with his sleeve, revealed a tiny knight and a dragon. They were in a field of snow, both braced for attack. 

It was perfect. More than perfect in fact. If only he could make it-

“Found anything you like?” Draco was peering over his shoulder. 

Instinctively, Harry hit the snowglobe under his sweater. “Yeah. Yeah, I have, actually.” He smiled in what he hoped was an innocent way. “You done?” Harry motioned at the pile of books under the Slytherin’s arm. They all looked the same to him. Ugly and torn.

Harry hovered next to the counter, anxious for Draco to be done. Then, the old lady muttered something rude at Draco. “Rich kids,” she spat. “All the same - disgusting little leeches.” 

Harry saw red. How dare she! What right did she have to say that to someone she didn't even know?

“Krystal kills Becca in the end.” He told her snarkily. 

The woman glared daggers at him. “Bold of you to assume I haven’t read this book before.”

“Bold of you to assume I knew you could read.”

The gremlin at the counter checked their bags and handed them over without so much a Merry Christmas! Well, bah humbug to you too, lady Scrooge.

Draco asked him as they walked out: “What did you say to that lady? She looked mad.”

“It was nothing,” Harry smiled. 

After a bit more shopping (during which Draco forced him to buy a frame for his glasses. “Consider it an early Christmas present if you must.”) they headed back inside. Ron told them Hermione had disappeared with Mille.

The fires left the living room enveloped in warmth. It felt great after all that walking around in snow. It felt even better when Draco pulled him down to sit on the couch closest to the fireplace. 

He smiled tentatively. Draco’s face was a soft pink, probably from the cold. His hair was mussed up from wearing the hat, and his lips were just a little blue. Harry wished he could’ve stopped that happening. He found himself wishing he could prevent winter from giving Draco the shivers. 

Then he remembered.

The way Draco shivered when Harry cast the warming charm would remain etched in the back of Harry’s head for a good while, he was sure. It was just so… so innocent yet- yet tantalizing. Harry licked his lips.

Draco grabbed a book, looking hesitant. “Do you mind if I…” He motioned to Harry’s lap.

Harry whose head went south almost instantly, before realizing what Draco meant. “Of-of course!” He stammered. 

“I don't mind at all!” Harry said, a bit too loud. Pansy and… was that MacDougal? snickered from a corner of the room.

Draco sighed and lay down, resting his head on Harry's lap. He opened his book and began to read.

“Please, can you put your hand on my head?” He said, so soft Harry almost didn’t hear. 

And when Harry put his hand through Draco’s hair, everything in the world felt right. He couldn’t quite explain it, but it just did. He wouldn’t have minded spending the rest of eternity with Draco’s head in his lap, fingers curled in blond hair that resembled the snow, but was softer than it could ever hope to be.

They stayed like that, unbearably close, until the embers died down and the dawning sun filtered through misty winter clouds.


	5. Chapter 5

Harry doesn't remember going to bed last night. 

But then he does.

The memories come to him in patches, and not in the proper order, like he’d had one too many bottles of firewhiskey before bed. 

Harry remembers staying up trying to put the correct charms on his gift for Draco. And then nearly breaking the thing while trying to wrap it. 

The memory of helping a half-asleep Draco into his pajamas was next. Harry could feel the other boy’s milky flesh even then. Draco’s head on his shoulder as Harry tired his level best to unbutton his jumper from the awkward angle. The smell of salted butterscotch and chocolate that occasionally drifted from Draco’s skin made Harry too delirious to focus anyhow.

Lying in bed facing each other, forcing their eyes to stay open. Draco’s cool fingers against Harry’s forehead, tracing his scar while the latter pressed his forehead against Draco’s death eater tattoo. It was too intimate a moment to have happened if they weren't half-asleep. 

Then he remembers carrying Draco back to their room after he’d fallen asleep in the lounge. The feel of Draco’s hands clutching his shirt and his sleepy warm breath against Harry’s face and neck. Mostly importantly though, the way Draco cracked an eye open and gave him a secret smile. Well, it _felt_ secret. 

Right now, Draco’s pressed behind him, arms hugging Harry's middle so tight he could barely breathe. Harry thought it would be a nice way to die. Death by hug. He'd succumb to that sort of end willingly.

“Oi, ‘arry,” he suddenly whispered. Harry hadn’t known Draco was awake too. Exactly how long had he been up?   
“M’ arm’s cramping.” Draco says, breath warm against Harry’s neck and he really shouldn’t be turned on by this but he is. 

Harry rolls to his side so Draco could free his arm. They were facing each other now. 

Draco smiled at him, eyes still closed. His hair was tousled and there were marks on his cheek from the pillow. Draco’s silk pyjama shirt had come unbuttoned halfway through the night, probably because Harry was too busy blushing to check if he’d buttoned them right.   
At that moment Draco looked very much like a sleepy ferret - and it made Harry’s heart do loop-de-loops. 

“G’mornin’ ‘arry.” He mumbled, rubbing his eyes.

“Morning Draco.”

“Merry Christmas.”

Harry almost replied with the same thing, when he remembered Draco told him his family celebrated Yule. “Happy Yuletide.”

“We should get up.”

“Yeah, I guess we should.”

***

It was while Harry was picking out a sweater to wear that he remembers. “Shit. Fuck no.” He groaned into the mirror.

“What’s wrong?” Draco peeks his head out from the shower curtain, hair dripping. It immediately makes the bathroom fog with steam.

“We were going to have an ugly sweater competition and I completely forgot to get an ugly sweater.”

“I don't know, Harry,” Draco grinned cheekily. “I still think you have a chance. All your sweaters are ugly.”

Harry grinned back. “Fuck off.” He said without malice. 

“I might have an idea, though.” and Draco whispered it into Harry’s ear, once again inciting shivers from the latter.

Harry nearly hugged him. But he didn't. Because Draco was in the shower and was most assuredly naked and Harry didn’t like to think what would happen if he saw a fly naked Draco. “Merlin, you brilliant creature!”

Draco’s face was a deep red, probably from staying under the hot water for too long. “Still want me to fuck off?”

“Never.” Harry replied truthfully.

***

When Ron said he was going all out with his ugly sweater, he really wasn’t kidding. 

Harry nearly had a heart attack when Draco’s face sneered at him from Ron’s shirt. “What the fuck, Ron?” He glanced at Draco and Hermione who were trying to hold in their laughter. Then he noticed Blaise Zabini near the french doors, wand pressed between his lips like a cigarette. Apparently Zabini thought he looked very cool when he did that. 

“I told you I take my sweater competitions very seriously.”

“That’s the first time you said anything remotely close.”

“Anyway,” Hermione said. “I’ve asked Blaise and Hannah to help us judge. And maybe Draco would like to join the judging panel too?” 

Before Draco could reply, Ron interjected. “It’s pretty clear Malfoy helped Harry with his costume. It would be favouritism.”

Hannah, from her spot on the yellow sofa the Hufflepuffs adopted as their own, giggled a little. She had a large magnifying glass and notepad beside her, which was odd. But not by Hannah standards. 

Harry blushed - partly because Ron was right and partly because everyone was staring at his sweater now. It was the Chudley Cannons one Ron gave him for his birthday and Harry thought he'd got rid of it, but somehow it ended up in the bottom of his trunk. Draco had used a sticking charm to attach a mirror to the front. 

“Now whoever looks at you will see the most revolting thing possible - their own face.” He’d said.

And Harry, the poor bastard, he said, “Except you.”

“What?”

“Except your face. That’s not- that’s not revolting to look at.”

Draco flushed. “There was a compliment in there somewhere. Thank you, Harry.”

Now Zabini was clearing his throat loudly. “Now, if that’s everyone, Hannah and I would like to proceed with the judging.” Then he turned to Draco. “Draco, babe, I’m going to need you to step aside for a bit - your glamour is ruining the uglies.” Seriously. What was with Slytherins and their pet names? Sooner or later someone’s going to think they’re all dating.

But what if they are?

“Hermione Granger, you get third place.”

The explosion that broke out was immediate. Within seconds Hermione and Blaise were brawling on Mrs Dabney’s polished floors. It gave Harry a chance to look at Hermione’s get up. She was wearing a patchwork jumper - and get this, the colours actually _matched_. Along with mismatched socks and black slacks. In other words, it wasn’t ugly at all.

Zabini’s decision wasn’t unfair at all, though it was satisfying to see him get decked.

In the end Zabini and Hannah declared Ron the winner because obviously seeing his own handsome face in Harry’s mirror jumper wouldn’t be considered ugly.

The look on Ron and Jumper Malfoy’s faces were worth it though.

***

Somehow Parvathi and Lavender managed to convince Mrs Dabney and Luanne to spend the night at their relative’s house. Obviously so they could throw a party.

“You should wear that suit Padma bought for you.” Draco told him. Harry’s Significant Annoyance was wearing a billowy sleeved shirt like the one he wore to the Yule ball in fourth year. Maybe because this was technically Yule and Lavender said the party would be a semi-formal one. Except unlike that time, Draco was wearing suspenders over them instead of just black slacks. Oh, and he was wearing a pilgrim hat. Because why the fuck not.

“You mean the kurta?”

“Yeah,” Draco was helping Harry ‘tame’ his hair. The latter of whom was still shirtless because “you don’t own anything that can be considered remotely formal except the kurta.”

“Okay.” Maybe he’d wear his red robes over it for a festive look. Subtle Slythergryff anyone? Gryffrin? Slytherdor? Slythegryffrindor?

“Oh,” said Draco. “Don’t wear the red robes over it. Yellow would look better.”

But _Slythegryffrindor_. “But-” He stopped when he saw the look Draco was giving him. “Okay fine.” Darn Draco’s adorable glare. Angry ferret was irresistible.

“Can I at least put on a Santa hat?” Harry pouted. Hopefully his puppy dog face was just as strong as Draco’s.

Draco rolled his eyes, but Harry thought he saw a tiny smile too. “Alright, Harry. You can wear a Santa hat.”

***

When they made it down, they nearly crashed into Pansy and Lavender. The two girls were in the middle of a glaring match because they were both wearing the same sexy santa dresses (which even Harry was sure did not count as semi-formal. Maybe).

Hermione waved them over to the snack table. “Can you guys watch Ron for a few minutes? Millie asked me to dance with her.” Mione was wearing a sparkly red dress that ended just below her knees, paired with heels that had Christmas lights twirled around her legs. There were some lights braided into her hair too.  
It was nice to see her looking so pretty and happy. She and Millie deserved a fun night. 

“Okay ‘Mione.” Harry smiled. “Where is Ron?”

“I think that’s him with his head in the punch bowl.” Draco mumbled dryly. 

It took them a good ten minutes to get Ron away from the alcohol and get him cleaned up. He kept crying about how unfair it was that the one time Ron went to Bulgaria, Krum was in London. “It’s like they don’t want us to see each other.” He told Draco. 

Draco looked confused. “But isn’t he your fiance?” 

Cue more tears from Drunk Ron™. Dron. Maybe Harry should stop doing that.

“It’s time for presents!” Said Parvathi. She was wearing a beautiful green and beige saree with lace that looked like delicate leaves. 

She hugged Harry when he came near. “You look awesome Potster. I’m so glad you decided to wear that after all.”

“What happened to your Christmas boycott?”

“Someone convinced Padma it wasn’t such a good idea.” Parv winked at Draco and went to help her girlfriend distribute the gifts.

Immediately Ron brightened and scrambled over to the tree, where everyone else was gathering.

Harry got Ron a special seat to Krum’s New Year special match. He hoped for a fun reaction from his best friend. 

Instead Ron just started laughing. 

“What?” Harry sweated. “You don’t like it?”

“Viktor got him the same thing!” Hermione giggled.

“Oh.”

“It was still a thoughtful gift, Harry.” Ron hugged him. “Thanks mate.”

Ron gave him another Cannons jumper. Yay. “Thank you Ron, I love it.”

“Liar.” Draco whispered in his ear. He’d gotten a pile of books from Hermione, some sweaters from Millie, an ornate mirror from Blaise (though it only showed Zabini’s face so was useless) and Pansy bought him a pair of stilettos for herself.

Harry didn’t put his present for Draco under the tree. It just… didn’t feel right.

He put his presents (Ron’s jumper, Mione’s reading glasses and Lavender and the twins’ DVD collection and some other gifts) away.

Everyone was starting to dance again, so Harry and Draco decided to go out on the veranda for some quiet. Except-

“Watch where you step, watch where you go!” Pansy shouted, giggling. “Harry and Draco are under the mistletoe!”

Sure enough, the french doors that were supposed to lead them to solitude were lined with mistletoe. And Harry had a feeling it wasn't the normal type either.

“Kiss him if you ever want to go,” Lavender piped it. “On the lips to escape the magic mistletoe.”

“Why are you guys talking in rhyme?”

“Just snog him already, I want a turn.” Blaise Zabini called out, smirking at Neville. But wasn’t he with Ernie? Oh, Merlin. 

Harry turned to Draco, who had his eyes pressed shut. Was he disgusted at the prospect of kissing Harry? He certainly didn’t look excited. “Are you scared?” He said, voice low enough for only Draco to hear.

Draco opened his eyes, blue and grey eyes sparkling. “Of kissing you? No.” He looked down, pressing Harry’s hands between his. “I’m afraid of what’s going to happen after.”

Harry squeezed Draco’s shaking hands. “Do you trust me?”

“With my entire being.” He answered readily. 

He let Harry raise his face with a finger, but kept his eyes firmly shut.

Harry pressed his lips against Draco’s, gently at first, but then his emotions got the better of him and suddenly Draco was kissing back with just as much enthusiasm. 

There were sparks around them - maybe from the magic mistletoe, maybe from something else. And then they were as far from each other as the Controlled Reproduction Draught allowed them.

Neither of them dared to the other in the eye.

“Move over losers, I have a Gryffindor to snog.” And boy, did Zabini know how to snog. Harry almost wished he was Neville.

***

They were out on the veranda, leaning on the railings and avoiding each other.

The sky, as always, was littered with stars too close for something too far to touch. Like Draco. The winter air made their breath curl white like smoke from a dragon. Like Draco. The gentle shower of snow was too delicate to have made an impact, yet it left Harry shiverin all the same. Like Draco.

Draco who was not speaking to him. Draco who was probably revolted by the kiss. Draco who was only standing next to him because of the potion.

“Listen I-” they both said at the same time.

“You go first.” Harry said weakly. He’d rather have his heart crushed first, rather than lay his feelings bare and have them walked on. 

Draco took a deep breath. “I can’t do this anymore. Being so close to you these past days has only made it worse. I thought maybe it would go away but it didn’t and I really can’t take it anymore.” See? Draco hated him.

“I understand-”

“No you don’t Harry James Potter.” Draco had tears in his eyes. “You being the bastard you are probably think I fucking hate you when it’s the opposite.” He let Harry hold him and buried his face in Harry’s kurta. 

“I like you and I have for a long time. And even if it hurts to tell you, it hurts more to keep it inside me.”

What?

But that meant-

“I haven’t given you my gift yet.” Harry said instead of the thousand other things he could have said that would have been less insensitive. 

Draco wiped his eyes. He looked at Harry meaningfully. 

Harry pulled the snowglobe out, hoping it would be enough to convey the words that had died on his tongue. He watched with bated breath as Draco tore the paper, and then with his hands clenched as the magic did its thing. 

The globe showed first a dragon and a knight in battle. Then the dragon lays its head down - a sign of concession, and the knight goes it, sword in hand.   
Harry flinches when Draco makes a pained sound. Did he think the knight was going to hurt the dragon?

The knight drops his sword and then gets on his knees. He lifts his helmet and presses his lips against the dragon’s forehead. The snow swirls around them both and when it recedes, it reveals a prince in the place of the dragon, blond and beautiful. It had been hard to put Draco’s features on the tiny figure, but luckily the books in Draco’s trunk had been about the very thing.

The dragon prince and the knight embrace once more.

Silence.

“So?” Harry asks nervously.

“Does this mean- does this mean what I think it does?”

“If you think it means I feel the same way for you, then yes. If not-'' Harry doesn't get a chance to finish his sentence as Draco pulls him into a bone-crushing embrace. 

“You bastard.” He mumbled into Harry’s yellow robes. “You utter bastard, I hate you.”

Harry couldn’t help but say, “but I thought you loved me?”

“Shut up. Git.”

“Prat.”

“I want to fall in love with you.”

“I want to grow old with you.”

“Sappy sod.”

“You know you love it.”

“I do.” Draco smiled, and it was more beautiful than any magic. More special than any snowflake. More magical than any mistletoe. 

*** 

“I guess I sort of ruined your perfect Christmas plans, didn’t I?” Draco was leaning against Harry, his eyes glued to the dancing figures inside the snowglobe. 

Harry pressed a kiss on Draco’s forehead. A bit like the knight to the dragon. “What are you talking about? If anything, you made it all the more amazing.”

“I realize now that it’s not the things we do that makes Christmas perfect.” Harry continued. “It's the people we spend it with. And the memories you make with them.”

“- That’s what makes a perfect Christmas.”

“And you just made this the most unforgettable one of all.” Harry admitted. 

Draco turned a brilliant red, which Harry didn’t really think possible because he was already so flustered. It was so cute. And it was because of _Harry._ He was the reason Draco was so happy. Oh, Merlin, was this a dream?

The snow on his cheeks was cold enough to be real, and so was the sound of his classmates enjoying themselves inside. Harry didn’t think his heart could beat as fast as it was, had he been dreaming.

“Hey, Harry?” Said Draco, pulling him out of his thoughts.

“Yeah?”

“Merry Christmas.”

“Happy Yuletide.”

**Author's Note:**

> ⛄ This work is part of the H/D Mistletoe winter gift exchange. If you enjoyed it, spread the love by leaving the author a kudos and a comment, and consider reblogging the tumblr fest post [here.](https://gwbexchange.tumblr.com/post/644223093509898240/desi-clubs-plant-catastrophes-and-other-such) ❄️


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